


Refresher Course

by Eliyes



Category: X-Men (Comicverse)
Genre: Gen, Memory Loss, Teacher-Student Relationship, Twins, of the non-sexy kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 09:03:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliyes/pseuds/Eliyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the twins didn't remember anything after the point at which the virtual retread of their memories was interrupted? </p><p>(After <i>X-Men Annual #1</i> (January 2007).)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Refresher Course

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally posted on Livejournal February 11, 2007.
> 
> There's a little bit of French dialogue from the twins in this. It should be understandable from context, but I've put translations in the end notes for those that want them.

  
  
It took a while for Victor to work up his courage, considering how badly things went _last_ time Northstar came back. He still had stitches.  
  
He found his former mentor outside one of the training rooms, sweaty from a workout, sucking back a bottle of water and laughing at something said by the dark-haired woman who could only be his twin sister.  
  
He looked... happy. More relaxed than Victor had ever seen him, somehow more content.  
  
This threw him so badly that they were walking past him before he managed to speak.  
  
“Uh – um – Mr. Beaubier?”  
  
Both twins stopped and turned to look at him, eerily similar expressions of inquiry on their faces.  
  
“Could I talk to you a minute?”  
  
“Certainement...” Jean-Paul replied, but his voice was quizzical. With a sinking heart, Victor realized there was not one iota of recognition there.  
  
“You don't remember me,” he whispered, horrified, embarrassed. He swallowed and looked down, unsure what to do. He could hardly bring up – ...well, anything, really.  
  
God, this was a _disaster_.  
  
“He's a little young, don't you think?” Jeanne-Marie murmured in French.  
  
“No younger than I was, but I don't think – ”  
  
“Je me comprends le Français,” Victor said abruptly, before he could get any further mortified.  
  
“Good!” Jeanne-Marie replied approvingly. “So _few_ Americans do.”  
  
“To answer your question,” Jean-Paul said, switching back to English, “I'm afraid I am missing a few years. They undid the brainwash by running us through our own memories – but it was interrupted. I don't remember everything.”  
  
“It is good, not to remember the programming,” Jeanne-Marie chimed in. Her accent was much more pronounced than her brother's.  
  
“Oui, c'est ça. But I _should_ know you...?”  
  
Victor looked up to see a concerned expression on Jean-Paul's face, one he'd seen many times before. His throat constricted, but he nodded.  
  
“I'm one of your students.”  
  
He didn't understand the worried look the twins exchanged.  
  
“I thought _I_ was the teacher...” Jeanne-Marie murmured.  
  
“Perhaps you could refresh my memory?” Jean-Paul asked, pleasant, polite. “If you do not need to go to class?”  
  
“I – sure. Okay.”  
  
The twins exchanged wordless nods, tapping each other's arms with their water bottles in a touching-not-touching that made Victor remember hearing about some power they only had when they touched. About them killing Iceman with it.  
  
He wondered if this was a really bad idea, but suddenly Aurora was gone and he was being herded down the hall to some chairs.  
  
“I mostly just want to ask if you're all right,” he stammered.  
  
“I think I must be better than I was,” Jean-Paul replied with a strange, sad smile. “And you? Are you all right, Monsieur...?” His hand moved over Victor's face, cupping the air barely an inch from his bruised jaw.  
  
“Borkowski. Victor Borkowski. Also called Anole.” He felt himself under scrutiny, and confessed, “I've been better.”  
  
“Hmm.” They stopped at the chairs. “Well, wait here a moment. I will be right back.”  
  
Victor hadn't even finished the act of sitting down when Northstar collapsed in the chair beside him with a noisy sigh, dry and freshly dressed.  
  
“Am I _really_ a teacher? I _hated_ school!” he exclaimed.  
  
“Um, yes. Business and Economics, and a flight class.”  
  
Jean-Paul smiled.  
  
“I do love flying.”  
  
“It looks fun.”  
  
“You don't...?”  
  
“No. You, uh, you were the teacher in charge of my student advisory group.” Victor took a deep breath and began explaining.  
  
“We were called Alpha Squadron...”

**Author's Note:**

> Certainement = Certainly  
> Je me comprends le Français = I understand French  
> Oui, c'est ça = Yes, that's so  
> Monsieur = Mister


End file.
